See Me
by blahosaurus
Summary: Kagome has had just about enough of being compared. Didn't she make it clear at the start? repeat after me: Ka.go.me! Complete.


See Me

It had been one to many times. Something had snapped inside her, something had finally crossed the line, making her feelings explode, anger boiling, hurt screaming, but must most of all was the determination in her eyes that shone.

She had to show them. Show him. Show her.

She was Kagome, and nobody else.

She was sick and tired and more than a little disturbed with the number of times she had been compared. The times she had been looked at and praised because of someone else, or insulted because of that same someone.

It was always Kikyo this, Kikyo that.

Fuck what Kikyo did! It was her pain and her tears she was bearing. Her burden, her life.

She didn't blame Kikyo in the least. No, she didn't blame her in the same way she didn't blame herself for looking like the last owner of her soul. Kikyo had lived, Kikyo had died. Kikyo had laughed, Kikyo had cried. Kikyo was Kikyo. And Kagome was Kagome.

End. Of. Story.

So why didn't anyone see it like so?

Kikyo hadn't been perfect, no matter what anyone said. Kagome wasn't stupid and as naïve as to think that. Kikyo was no goddess. That was why she had died.

Because she was human.

Imperfect, with flaws like the rest of the world. She had fallen in love, she had suffered because of it. Because of her own mistake not to trust completely.

Her mother had taught her not to cry. To be strong. To take care of the people around her. She was taught to hold her responsibilities above everything and trust _no one_. Her father had walked out on them for some normal human which didn't have the burdens of a priestess, and Kikyo's mother had passed her bitterness to her daughter. Passed down how to be cold, how to be strong.

And that's what broke her.

She had let her guard down, she had trusted, she had ignored her mother's wishes, all for that one hanyou, but when even the first glimpse was shown that it was all a lie, she had jumped on it, making her wonder if the trust was really there in the first place.

If they had really meant to be.

Now she was wandering the earth as the dead, stealing and trying to cling on to the very last chance to feel the world, to see colours and hear love in the air. Her last chance at everything, before the nothingness came. All her opportunities spent.

And then there was Kagome. The other side of this hated mirror. The second part of the legend of the Shinkon No Tama, as if her life were just a part in a play. As if her tears didn't burn and her laugh didn't lift. As is she meant nothing at all.

Despite herself, though she tried to be strong and not care, she craved Inu-yasha's understanding. She treasured his compliments, his smiles. And when he compared her to Kikyo, no longer in an offensive manner, simply doing so, even in a compliment, she felt something shrivel inside. He didn't do it to Sango, or any other female he complimented which, it was a given, was almost never, but when he slipped…

And then came the day they had gone to a village, and imagine their surprise when someone told them there was an impostor going around looking like Kagome-sama. How very ironic, Kagome had thought.

Really, how could she hate Kikyo? They were nothing alike, yet went through the same troubles, with the same people, on the same world. She was truly convinced that if given the chance, they could become the best of friends, for only they could understand each other.

Granted, Kagome didn't know about Kikyo's childhood and death, the same way as Kikyo didn't know about Kagome's past and life. But everything fit together. Gracefully, stumbling, perfectly, flaw filled. Together.

And it seemed both sides of the coin were murky. Not only was Kagome mistaken with Kikyo, but Kikyo was mistaken with Kagome. Was it really true, that only one could stay? But how decide? Neither of them belonged in that world. Kikyo was dead and Kagome…Kagome wasn't even born yet!

It was all just wrong.

That had been the start to a bad week. People insisting on this 'impostor'. Kagome's patience running thin. Inu-yasha being his brooding self, and he acted as if it were his fault, that Kagome was so upset, even though she tried to cover it.

And then when she convinced herself that it didn't matter, the next village she came she was suddenly overwhelmed by a surf of people, like bullets towards a heart they sped. They exclaimed on her return, praising her, asking her why she wore such odd garbs.

She had pursed her lips and counted to ten. Then to twenty. Then to ten again. Then, as calmly as she could, she had explained that she wasn't Kikyo. She had never been Kikyo. She was nothing like Kikyo.

Her voice started rising…

Explaining how Kikyo didn't come from the Fung future, how she didn't wear short skirts, and for goodness sake, didn't people see that her hair was wavy? And her eyes bigger? And for the love of Kami, her eyes where Fung blue, not brown like Kikyo's!

By this stage there were very scandalised people, a hysterical Kagome, an astonished Sango and Shippo, a staring Inu-yasha, and Miroku was steering her away from the village, claiming there was no purifying to do there…

Kagome had apologised a million times that night. She had cried so silently everyone had heard her. She hadn't eaten and had had looked no one in the eyes. Hadn't even dare raise her sight to Inu-yasha.

The morning had rose, and everything had seemed unnaturally normal. Things moved on…

By the end of the week they were back at Kaede's village, and Kagome was practicing with the bow and arrow. It surprised everyone how far she had come, but when one of the villagers commented she was _almost _as good as Kikyo, a tree had shot up in pink flames, leaving a startled, cowering man behind, and a very tense looking Kagome walking off.

Oh_ Dear._

And then the last drop came, of course, in a hanyou form with a heart in his hand he seem to rip accidentally quite often.

"You know, your stance is all wrong, you'll never hit the target like that." He commented. Kagome had frowned, but didn't really push the advice away, yet pride was a thing there was not little of in her.

"Oh, then can you can explain the arrows embedded in the target?" She teased. She hadn't missed once. But she hadn't hit very close to the centre once either.

Inu-yasha, of course, pointed that out.

"Look, do it like this."

All her thoughts had scampered out of her mind, giggling all the while, as his arms came around her. A hand on her arm, her hand, her waist, her leg.

Was he doing this on purpose?

"See! Just like Kikyo looked."

And there came all the thoughts back.

She had tensed under his enjoying hands, and he had tensed with her.

_I didn't mean it like that…_

Agonizingly quite seconds passed by, crawling, dragging their hearts behind.

And then Kagome had left, first slowly, and then she had started running.

Running away, running towards a time far, far _away_.

Inu-yasha had run after her, desperate to clear things up, but she had pushed him away, shouting at him not to dare come after her, eyes raging.

And then, just before she jumped, she whispered,

"I'll be back in a week. I'm sorry. I just can't handle this right now. Jesus, I just want someone to see _me_."

The last part wasn't meant to be heard by him. Or maybe it was, for it was spoken, but nevertheless, the wind carried it to him before the intensity of her scent and presence disappeared disturbingly.

And now here she was, one week later, dreading going back.

What would they say?

She took a deep breath, the darkness of the shrine oppressing, edging her to hop over the edge into a world that was waiting for her.

But…

No. no buts. Not What ifs. No going back.

And with a empty feeling clutching her stomach in the pain of dreaded anticipation she jumped…

Across the indescribable feeling of floated yet speeding through time…

And then cold, harsh air met her, not welcoming at all.

She steeled her nerves. She settled the butterflies in her stomach.

Her life. Her decision.

_Here goes nothing…_

And that was what met her. Nothing. No one. Just the silence of the night.

Was it cowardly that she came in the cover of darkness?

Yes.

Did she care?

Not that much.

She looked around, for both sign of friend and enemy, bow on her right shoulder, not the left, like it normally was.

Oh, yes, she had had a mission to accomplish. A very simple, complicated thing.

Change.

She had started with the way she used the bow and arrow. She had spent all her time possible shooting with her left arm and hand.

And damn was it hard.

This time she didn't have to learn from scratch, so it wasn't as bad. She knew how to keep her balance, her concentration, how to aim, but it was hard to position herself when everything was on the other side of the mirror.

Only her mother, concerned beyond the normal amount, managed to rip her out of the training she submitted herself under.

As she walked towards the village, she had to admit she was even worse with the bow and arrow than she was before, but she didn't care. This was for the best. If she didn't let all this…frustration out of her system, she was going to cave in, and then she wouldn't be able to handle _anything_…

And suddenly she could feel him. His aura brushing hers. She was looking at her, she knew, and tracked the feeling down.

Two golden eyes.

Suspended like floating twin fires.

And the butterflies were back again, mutantly giant, wings rippling inside her.

She didn't even know if she was sorry. Sorry for changing for such a reason. But she couldn't stand being looked at and reminded so much of someone else.

Especially by him.

"Kagome…?"

So it didn't seem like such a big change. Not if spoken of to someone who had never seen before, but the change in the style of her hair changed everything about her, and it was not only the change, but the fact that she had done it that worried her for the response of her comrades.

Her hair was cut incredibly short for what it had been, hugging her face in curls that seemed to morph her very appearance. She seemed older in a different way, even more modern than she had looked before. And not only that, her locks were no longer that special blue-black she had always been proud of. Now it was even more special, a colour mixed by her mother when told the situation. Now the strands were a purpulsigh/redish brown, a hint of golden blond here and there.

She was different, damn it. People who knew her, saw that. Now people could spot it from afar.

She had never been a shallow person. Yes, she had loved the phone, the girly magazines, and all that jazz girls coo over, but never had she judged by looks, by rumours, or by anything so skin-deep. She had to know someone to mistrust them, it didn't matter that the method got her hurt. It was just the way she was.

And as she stared back at Inu-yasha, the silence so thick with questions it pulled at their shoulders, Kagome could take it no longer. Shifting her weight, she smiled slightly, reaching up to run her hands through her hair on her shoulders nervously, only to find it wasn't there. She gulped. It really was a big change, not only physical, but this would be more practical as well. She was fed up with eating hair every time she was in battle with Kagura or a winged demon. Or even on a windy day.

But as she stood there, 500 years out of where she belonged, she truly stuck out. No woman wore her hair like that, and that colour…

He stepped out of the shadows of the trees and into the shadows if the night, but the little moonlight that let itself be seen illumined him for her to see his features more clearly as her eyes adjusted further to her surroundings.

He walked towards her, silently, and with each step something grew heavier in her chest.

Would he look at her the same way, now that she didn't automatically remind him of his true love? Would everything stay constant if no villager mistook her for the dead priestess?

Would everything be ok?

Suddenly, Inu-yasha stopped before her, and his hand was on her hair, examining the locks.

"Nice hair, wench. And you're late. Let's go, it's your own stupid fault if you're tired tomorrow morning."

And he walked away like he always did, same step, same smirk. Understanding in his eyes.

She smiled her special smile, the one always directed at him, and ran to catch up with him, like she always did.

And then his hand was wrapped around hers, a light blush on his face as she looked up at him in surprise, but the look melted away tenderly.

Maybe things _had_ changed.

She stopped, pulling him to a stop with her, and leaned up to press her lips against his clumsily, a clashing of worlds, soft intimacy.

Damn, if she was gonna change, she might as well go all the way!

Her hands were butterfly light on his face, and he leaned into her, not giving her a chance to pull away like she had intended, tongues meeting as they slipped through barriers, hands pulling her closer, stroking the now curlier hair as they kissed, surrounded by gossiping leaves and sharing stars.

But wasn't it the Japanese which said that all change is good?

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Cooked quickly so it's a bit raw, but oh well, maybe I'll re-touch it some other time. Two one-shots written from scratch on the same night, roll roll roll roll **review **roll roll roll…

Cha-ching baby. Cha-ching.


End file.
